


These New Rebellions

by Terra



Category: Final Fantasy VI
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-01
Updated: 2010-01-01
Packaged: 2017-10-05 13:58:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/42482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Terra/pseuds/Terra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The two Returners plot the downfall of the Empire, and also make jokes about the other's masculinity.  Technology quickens.</p>
            </blockquote>





	These New Rebellions

Last night one of Edgar's prettiest noblewoman had gone without a corset, hair done up in the modern style with tiny seashell pins. Laughing, she said that it was a new rebellion, her high waists and short sleeves. The fashions are blowing up from Vector, like so much else, recalling a civilization only remembered by its statues. The king asked her to dance just once-- Edgar wore the same equal-heeled boots, the same silk stockings and woolen breeches. He cannot afford these new rebellions.

\---

Locke keeps behind the great damask curtain in Edgar's private chambers, whistling a raunchy tavern tune and hoping one of the servants will find him. But soon enough the king arrives, drenched in heavy finery, and motions for Locke to come out from his hiding place.

"So," Locke says. "You came after all-- and usually you're so eager to rush straight to the bedroom."

"Oh, come off it," Edgar replies, sitting down at his elaborate stone-topped desk. "'Tis very hot, and I'm not even late."

"Which I shall attribute to my magnificent charms."

"You've had a lot of time to seduce me, Cole, and you've not managed it once."

"Last I checked," Locke replies roundly, "I preferred girl parts." He takes the seat across from Edgar and unrolls large tracts of paper on the desk, weighing them down with some stones from his pocket. "These are all I could get from the outpost south of Narshe. Arvis is talking of sending me to Vector proper, but that'll take time and documents."

"If you need money, I'd be happy to oblige. But I can't afford to have a spy caught with my signature."

"Of course. We were planning on forging the Imperial seal. Less questions that way." Locke settles deeper into his chair, putting his hands behind his head. "Though, I do take offense at the word caught."

"Sorry," Edgar mumbles, caught up in the plans on the desk. "Never meant to imply-- see, and there we are!"

"What? Have you got something?"

Edgar pushes his very modern gas lamp across the table, lighting one figure in particular. "This. The power supply on this construct is much too small-- they'd need at least thrice that space for enough coal to keep it moving. It's impossible." Edgar stands up and paces back and forth, his heels clicking an unpleasant rhythm. "It's more than impossible. Even if they somehow caught the electric from the sky, which I don't believe can be done-- if it contains the quantities of force that Roberts implies, his arm would have fallen off trying to hold it. But supposing they had all the power of a dozen kites in a dozen thunderstorms, it still would not be enough for the likes of this."

"But the Empire ain't in the business of making clocks that don't turn," says Locke. "Much to my infinite regret."

"No," Edgar replies. "They aren't."


End file.
